How To Master The Superhuman Achievement
by excel.siors
Summary: Following the death of his father, Josh takes a break from the campaign and returns back home to Connecticut while Sam and Donna take it upon themselves to make sure he doesn't fall apart. Consequently, Josh and Sam learn a lot about Donna, and Donna learns a lot about Josh and Sam.
1. Panem Et Circenses

**This is a pre-administration fic, which I normally steer clear of, as I don't pretend to be fluent in the ways of presidential campaigns or the beginnings of Josh and Donna's relationship. Consequently, this focuses on neither of those things. Although inevitably it includes some J/D, it's more about their respective relationships with Sam. Also, the format is a little odd, and it's purposeful, so if the skipping around bothers you, I apologize! Hopefully the use of italics to separate past/present is helpful enough.**

 **Precursor: this is also based around a headcanon of mine that Sam and Josh met in high school, which you might see as being rather unlikely since they're from different states, but there's nothing to say Sam's parents couldn't have moved him to Connecticut at one point in time. I've just always felt as though their bond extends beyond one of two friends who met during their time on the Hill, as most people seem to accept as the beginning of their friendship. If you're having a hard time buying that, or really the basis of this story, feel free to think of it as slightly AU-ish.**

 **Anything recognizable probably belongs to Sorkin and such.**

"Thank you," Sam mouths to Josh across the room, watching his best friend alight with true happiness, and feeling the sensation reflected in his soul.

Josh responds, but Sam loses sight of him a second later amidst the chaos erupting around them. There's dancing and cheering and so many other things that it's hard even to keep track of himself, much less anything else. He lets the full thrill of what they've just accomplished wash over him, renewing his confidence with the thought that yes, this is finally somewhere he belongs.

He's pulled into C.J.'s arms for a dance, twirled around, practically gliding across the room. She's singing along to the music which he isn't really listening to, but he finds himself mesmerized by the energy she exudes. She's the kind of person who, given more time and intimacy, he could find himself forming a real bond with. She's the kind of woman who other women should look to as an example of strength and empowerment, and just as he thinks he's drunk enough on excitement to tell her this, someone is pulling him away from her.

He turns, meeting a familiar pair of blue eyes, except even through their familiarity, he notices an expression that isn't familiar at all.

"Sam," Donna says softly, and he recognizes a gentleness there that he hasn't heard in her before.

He restrains himself from telling her to get a little pep in her step and join the party, knowing, even though he doesn't really know her all that well, that there's something off about this moment.

Later, when the room has gone quite silent and unbelievably still, he'll reflect on the significance of the moment before. He'll think back to the exact second he could tell without actually knowing.

Now, though, he can do nothing but stare blankly as she babbles on, spouting out medical terms and numbers that mean nothing to him at all. He feels someone grip his shoulder, knows it's C.J., but doesn't take his eyes off of Donna. He's frozen in shock, listening to her ramble without understanding at all.

Noah Lyman cannot be dead. There's no way. He was doing so much better. Sam had just talked to him yesterday. Everything was going to be fine. Except...

"Josh is on the next plane out to Connecticut," Donna finally pauses. "I just thought...you know."

Before he lets the true gravity of his personal emotions on the matter get in the way, Sam swallows, "Where is he?"

Donna shrugs, "He just...left. His room, maybe? I don't..."

Sam is out the door without a second thought.

. . . . .

His conversation with Josh lasts all of about five minutes during which, expectedly, his best friend does absolutely nothing to let Sam comfort him and concentrates his entire power into shutting him out entirely. If he weren't so shaken up himself, Sam thinks he probably would've made more of an effort. But Josh's plane is leaving soon, and he has to pack, so Sam leaves him alone, and retreats back into the main suite.

When he returns, all sense of excitement is entirely lost. He's glad that he missed the exchange of information amongst the rest of the staff. He doesn't think he could bear to hear it over and over again, whispered around him in fragile tones

He flops tiredly down on the couch beside Toby, who is very uncharacteristically solemn. He sits in silence for a long time, during which people filter in and out of the room. He thinks he hears Leo say something about needing to check on Josh, and he and the governor leave for a while. But Sam barely registers it, as he's trained entirely on the television, which is still rolling a constant stream of mindless information.

"You knew him?"

Sam's head jerks upwards at the sudden interruption of his previously monotonous thought process. Toby's watching him with what appears to be concern, but Sam can't be certain as he's never actually seen a genuine look of concern on this man's face before. He can't bring himself to understand what the question meant, though he realizes later that it should've been rather obvious, so all he is able to say in response is, "What?"

"Josh's dad," Toby clarifies. "You knew him?"

"I...yeah," Sam stutters. "Yeah, I knew him pretty well."

Toby nods slowly, "Why didn't you go with him, then?"

Suddenly, Sam finds that through the last hour or so, this thought had never crossed his mind, and so he has no answer for Toby.

"I don't know," he says honestly. "I've been sort of..."

"In shock?"

"Yeah."

"You're holding up alright, though?"

. . . . .

 _"You're holding up alright, though?"_

 _Josh sighs heavily, "It's not like we were close."_

 _"Well, yeah," Sam shrugs, setting his backpack down on the armchair and joining his friend on the sofa. "But your dad's pretty torn up over it. Sometimes seeing your parents so upset affects you more than you realize."_

 _"I'm okay," Josh tells him softly, and in that moment, Sam knows he's being honest. "Wish I didn't have to miss three days of school to go all the way to freakin' Toronto, though. Why do they even live there?"_

 _"I hear Canadian people are nice," Sam comments._

 _Josh gives him a look, "Okay, whatever. I'm just sayin'...the fact that of all places, Toronto is one of the cities with the largest Jewish population? That's weird."_

 _Sam toes off his shoes and rests his feet on the coffee table, "You've been there before, right?"_

 _"Once or twice. It's not all that exciting. Just cold. I shouldn't be missing that much Chemistry, though. Not this close to mid-terms," Josh starts grumbling, and Sam knows that all attempts to get him less biter about going to Toronto are being nipped in the bud._

 _"I'll take plenty of notes for you," he tells his friend. "You know how thorough my notes are because you make fun of it all the time. We'll go over it together; it'll be fine."_

 _Josh shakes his head, "I wish I could just stay here with you, anyways."_

 _"Yeah," Sam agrees, "but I'm not even going to bring that up again within miles of your mother."_

 _Josh smiles, recalling his mom's reaction to their suggestion that he miss his great-aunt's funeral._

 _"You'd think she'd understand that me passing my Chem mid-term is more important than attending a funeral for a woman I had a cumulative fifteen minutes worth of conversation with."_

 _"It's important to your dad, though," Sam reminds him. "Your dad was close with her, so she wants you to support him, that's all."_

 _"Yeah, well," Josh mumbles bitterly, "if failing this class is what keeps me out of Law School, they're both going to be sorry."_

. . . . .

"I'm holding up, okay," Sam replies slowly. "I mean, still a bit in shock, though, so maybe it hasn't quite hit me yet."

Toby gives him a smile that's not reminiscent of any sincere emotion, but Sam appreciates it nonetheless.

. . . . .

"You should go."

"Go?" Sam asks, confused. And then it hits him. "Go to Connecticut? Leo, I can't do that. Josh is gone, so I've got to be here. Maybe you ought to go. He was your friend, after all, and Josh could use the support."

"Sam," Leo replies evenly, "if you can't leave because Josh is gone, I certainly can't. I'm running this thing. Just take a couple of days, Sam. He was important to you too."

"Leo..."

"Go," Leo says once more, and this time, it's an order, not a suggestion. "He needs you more than he needs me. My wife and daughter will be there. Ruth will understand."

Sam doesn't make to protest again. He only nods, then thanks his boss and leaves.

He's almost completely done packing when Donna appears in his doorway, fiddling with Josh's room key and watching him intently.

"Hey," Sam says because there's really nothing else to say.

"Hi," she replies, looking at her hands. "You have my cell number, don't you?"

Sam flips his suitcase shut, "I'm sorry?"

"My cell number," she repeats. "You have it in your phone?"

"I...yeah."

She nods, "Good. I just...keep me updated, okay? He's...I'm worried, and..."

"Donna," Sam takes pity on her. "We're all worried. Of course I'll keep you updated."

She smiles slightly, content with his response, but still visibly bothered. She opens her mouth, closes it, then starts again, "You'll need to watch his meals. He skips them when he gets anxious, and it's easier to just let him get by on donuts and potato chips, but once he gets in the habit, it'll be hard to get him back to real food. And he won't sleep much, so don't bother trying to make him, just make sure he at least lays down for a while every now and then. If he gets particularly mopey, you can probably convince him to take a long shower. And if he starts yelling, just let him. He'll say things he doesn't mean, and it might sting a little, but he'll apologize later. It's just his way. If he ever gets to be too much...if...if you don't know how to handle it, you can call me, and I'll try my best to—"

"Donna," Sam interrupts her a second time.

She cuts off her rant to look at him, eyes full of pain and helplessness.

"Come with me," he tells her.

She looks shocked, "Come with you?"

"Come with me. Pack your stuff and come to the airport with me, and let's fly to Connecticut together. He needs us. He needs you, Donna. So come with me. We'll piece him back together. Between the two of us, we won't let him fall apart."


	2. Felix Culpa

**I was going to have this story show all three of their perspectives, but the more I thought about it, I realized with all of the jumping around that it might be way too confusing. Also, I really want to show some in-depth introspections about Josh's character which I realized can come more easily from an outside point of view, as it's less likely for Josh to delve into his own personality and actions the way I intend to, so you get to hear everything from Sam's view.**

 **On another note, I don't know how invested you all are in this story, but I can't really promise regular updates because ideas spring upon me in random orders, and it takes a while to get motivated enough to fill in the gaps. But anyways, enough of the prelude. Here're my favorite Sorkin characters in their natural habitat.**

Sam notices Donna's shock at how easily and quickly they're able to take their leave and make it to the airport with tickets for a 6:20 AM flight to Hartford.

"We don't even have a connecting flight!" she gushes for about the tenth time as they stand at the checkout counter in one of the small convenient stores, hands full of soda and bubble gum. "You've got to teach me how to do that. It could really come in handy as an assistant, you know."

Sam flashes her a smile, "I did a lot of east coast-west coast back and forth as a teenager and during college. Having family all over the country makes you get used to traveling."

"I wouldn't know," Donna tells him, handing her card to the cashier. "All of my family has always lived within one hundred miles of my front porch."

"Really?" Sam wonders, slightly surprised.

"Yep," she nods.

They finish paying for their goodies and make their way to the terminal listed on their tickets. He's not surprised that she's unfamiliar with traveling, seeing as she'd already told him she's never actually been on an airplane. The concept of never having to leave the state to see family members, however, is foreign to him.

"So," she begins, a little hesitantly, "you're sure this bubble gum thing is going to work?"

"Always has for me," he shrugs, setting down their shared carry-on bag and flopping down tiredly into one of the seats. He checks his watch. Still another half hour until they'll have to board. "You should probably take the Dramamine soon. It takes about thirty minutes to kick in."

Donna nods, though Sam notes the slight anxiousness that comes at his mentioning of the motion-sickness. After that, they lapse into a somewhat uncomfortable silence. Sam realizes for the first time that he doesn't actually know what to talk to Donna about when Josh isn't around, which, he wonders, may come from his usual incapacity to make small talk with pretty girls, or it might just be simply because he's never really _had_ to talk to Donna without Josh around. Ever since she joined the campaign, the two have been practically inseparable. Sam was originally somewhat surprised at Josh's ability to actually form a bond even somewhat resembling friendship with a female, but after further observation, began to put a finger on their odd, yet somehow indisputable relationship.

He's reminded of that once again when he thinks back to what she'd said to him just before he'd asked her to come with him. She'd been explaining to him how to take care of Josh as though Sam didn't know him, as though he hadn't had to deal with multiple breakdowns with this man for four years of high school and several more years after college. If she'd been through enough to know how to handle it that well just since she started working for him, then Sam's certainly been through infinitely more.

He ends up settling on the topic of home, having been given slight insight into her family life in Wisconsin, and being able to contrast that with both his childhood memories of California, and his teenage and young adult years in the Northeast. He finds himself thoroughly enjoying learning all about rural culture in her hometown, while she is equally enthralled with the idea that city life really is exactly how it seems.

"You'll see," he tells her at end of their conversation, just as they're finally about to board, "once we get to D.C."

She smiles widely at his optimism, but says nothing in response, as they're then required to present their tickets to the woman in front of the entryway.

Donna never actually throws up, though she does squeeze his hand so hard he thinks it's going to fall off from lack of circulation during both their entire take off and landing. He watches with amusement as she goes wide-eyed during the flight attendant's explanation of the safety procedures, and he reminds her of the very statistically small chance they have of actually experiencing any difficulties. She follows his careful instructions for chewing the bubble gum and swallowing regularly to keep her ears from popping, and though he's less reluctant than he previously was to make conversation, they end up both sleeping through the majority of the flight.

When they finally come to a stop, and Donna releases his hand from her grasp, Sam starts to stretch, hearing the familiar, "Thank you for flying Delta, and welcome to New Haven."

. . . . .

 _"Thank you for flying Delta, and welcome to New Haven."_

 _Sam can't exactly say that he had dreaded his entire summer because he really does miss his parents during the school year, but Connecticut has been feeling more and more like home since freshman year, and spending three months away from Josh and his parents is harder than he'd like to admit even to himself._

 _He'd been restless the whole flight, and now that they've landed, it seems like years before he's able to shuffle his way down the aisle and across the threshold of the plane. The second he walks through the connecting tunnel into the airport, he spots all three Lymans, standing in a huddle, searching for him._

 _Sam's eyes meet Josh's for a split second, and he waves at his best friend, a smile on his face. Josh smiles too and taps his mother, pointing in Sam's direction. The second he's through the crowd and standing in front of them, Ruth is pulling him into a hug._

 _"How was it?" she asks, releasing him only to take his shoulders in her hands and give him a good once-over as if inspecting him for injury._

 _"It was alright," Sam shrugs._

 _Noah gives him a fatherly clap on the back and a warm smile. Then Sam turns to Josh, who raises his eyebrows, "You didn't get much of a tan."_

 _Sam rolls his eyes._ This is what I was so excited to get back to, huh?

 _"I got plenty tan," he replies defensively. "You just can't tell because of the lighting in here."_

 _"Sure," Josh smirks, reaching to take Sam's carry-on out of his hands. "Let's get moving, I'm tired of standing around here. And hungry."_

 _Sam sighs. Five minutes in, and fifty percent of his human interaction is listening to Josh Lyman make fun of him and then complain. He shouldn't be smiling as much as he is, honestly, he shouldn't. But he can't help it._

 _Home, sweet home._

. . . . .

Sam rolls both of the suitcases over to Donna, who's flipping through a brochure of who knows what. She looks up as he approaches, smiling at him, and trades their carry-on bag for her suitcase.

"You wanna let Lisa know we're in while I see if I can find us a cab?" she asks him.

"Oh," Sam frowns. "I assumed we'd rent a car."

Donna's eyes go wide, "Rent a car? You know we're only going to be here for like two days, right?"

"Well, yeah. But it might be nice to have a vehicle. That way we won't be stuck coming and going as Josh pleases."

Donna bites her lip, "Isn't it a good bit of money to rent a car?"

"Well, it's more than the cab, sure, but it's fine."

Sam notices her give him an odd look, but he can't really be bothered to decipher it at the moment. He really does need to call Lisa and let her know that they're in Connecticut now.

. . . . .

Sam hands the man behind the desk his card and looks back at Donna. She's giving him that weird look again, and right as he's about to comment on it or ask what's bothering her, she says, "I can just give you cash, then?"

For the life of him, Sam can't make out what it is she means.

"Huh?"

"I'll pay my share in cash. For the car, I mean."

Oh.

"Donna, you don't owe me money for the car," he tells her.

"Sure I do," she argues, but he notices her visibly relax, and then all of the sudden, he understands.

After finishing the transaction, he steers her away from the counter.

"Donna," he says again. "Don't worry about the money, okay? I didn't expect you to pitch in. I'm sorry I freaked you out about the renting thing. I should've understood."

Donna opens her mouth in protest, but Sam barrels on, "It's really okay. I know you haven't really got money to spare just now, especially after flying out here like this. I've got it taken care of."

"I don't want to take advantage..."

"You're not," Sam assures her. "Promise. I asked you to come with me, so let me cover it, alright?"

She looks as though she's going to argue again, but her practical side wins out. She nods once, and though she says nothing else, he notices her still feeling guilty.

"You're on payroll now, right?" he asks her. "Josh isn't still paying you out of pocket, I mean."

She shakes her head, "Not since April."

Donna looks down at her feet, shrinking into herself in that way she does when something comes up about her leaving. Despite his better judgment, Sam's inability to let things go takes over, and soon he's blurting out, "You don't have to keep feeling guilty about that, you know."

She looks up at him, shocked in a way that shows him she understands exactly what he's talking about.

"Look," he tells her. "It's really none of my business why you left, or why you felt like you had to, or even why you came back, but...can I just say something?"

He pauses, giving her a chance to tell him to drop it, but her lack of response is encouragement enough for him to keep talking.

"I think what you did was pretty brave. Coming back like that, it took guts. To be honest with you, if it had been me, I don't think I could've done it. And don't listen to me because I'm the guy who has to constantly find the best in everyone, but the fact that Josh let you back in? That must mean you're pretty special. I've only ever seen Josh do that with one other person, and you know who it was?"

Donna shakes her head.

"Me."

This makes her smile.

"So don't keep putting yourself down over it. If Josh and Leo think you deserve to be here, then you deserve to be here. Whatever happened in the past is old news, got it?"

She nods, smile still plastered to her face in a way that doesn't speak of full acceptance, but enough, Sam thinks, that the next time the subject is approached, he won't find her staring at the ground.

 **So, another thing to note is the existence of really odd chapter titles? Like, I really hate that authors these days are getting away from titling their chapters. I mean, I can't be the only one who lived for the Table of Contents in all the _Percy Jackson_ novels. Anyways, I wanted a theme, and I settled on Latin. Each chapter is a common Latin phrase, with no translation because it adds to the intrigue (or I'm just lazy, take your pick).**


	3. Aere Perennius

**HA. Okay, as you may or may not be able to tell from the amount of time this this update took, my motivation to getting it done was sincerely lacking. Here's hoping at least someone enjoys it anyways.**

 **A chapter inspired by Aaron Sorkin's groundwork and Brad Whitford's love of dogs:**

"Samuel!"

Sam barely gets the chance to take a breath because the second the door flies open, he's pulled into Ruth Lyman's arms and crushed against her in a suffocating hug. She embraces him for a long moment, rocking him side to side, before withdrawing a bit and moving her hands to frame his face. She cups his chin and presses a kiss to each of his cheeks in a way that is so distantly familiar that he can't help but smile.

"Hi," he says, lamely. "I take it you're glad to see me."

"Glad to see you!" she huffs, throwing her hands up in the air. "Honestly! Would it kill you to drop by once and a while? You moved to New York, Samuel, not Europe."

Sam chuckles lightly, "I'm a very busy and important man, Ruth."

She shakes her head at him, wagging her finger sternly as she admonishes, "You don't get to use that excuse on me, boy. You're not too busy. You just can't be bothered to take the time. You'd think I'd have gotten over it after Joshua, but I expected better from you."

"Hey, now!" Sam protests. "Don't start with that. You and I both know I'm not nearly as bad as Josh."

Ruth sighs, "I suppose so. At least you make an effort for the occasional phone call without me having to heckle your assistant."

A soft giggle from behind Sam reminds him of a certain assistant's presence, and he shifts sideways a bit, so that Donna is more visible to Ruth.

"Speaking of," he says, "Ruth, this is Donna."

"Oh!" Ruth practically squeals. "Of course! Donna, it's so nice to finally put a face to the voice."

"Hello, Mrs. Lyman," Donna smiles at her somewhat apprehensively reaching forward with her hand for a shake, but Ruth pulls her in for a hug instead.

"Donna, dear, you really must call me Ruth. How many times have we talked about this over the phone?"

Donna laughs in response, but makes no effort to correct herself.

"Come inside, and let me have a good look at you," Ruth pulls her through the doorway, and Sam follows right behind, dropping their carry-on bag at the bottom of the staircase just inside the foyer.

He watches as Ruth takes Donna by the arms and gives her an appraising once-over.

"My goodness!" she finally declares. "How my son ever got such a beautiful young woman to waste her time on him, I'll never understand."

Sam laughs at Ruth's good-natured teasing of Josh that he remembers so well, but notices Donna blush immediately at the insinuation of the older woman's words. He rushes to change the topic of conversation.

"Where is Josh, anyways?" he asks, glancing around the corner into the den as if expecting his friend to be there.

"Taking a shower, I believe," Ruth explains. "Why don't you grab your suitcases and take them to your rooms while we wait on him? You can give Donna the tour."

"Sure thing!" Sam responds cheerfully.

"I can help with the luggage," Donna offers, and though Sam is tempted to tell her it's not necessary, he notices the slight awkwardness in her demeanor and understands her reluctance to be left alone with Josh's mother. Not that she has anything to be worried about, of course, but they did only just meet, and he can't entirely blame her for feeling a bit out of place.

"Okay," he smiles, turning to head back out the door.

"I'll put on some coffee for later," Ruth calls after them.

. . . . .

"And this is my room," Sam tells Donna, who follows him inside where his suitcase is already sitting at the foot of the bed.

"Wow," she raises her eyebrows with a slight smirk. "Your own room, huh?"

Sam shrugs, "It's the upstairs guest room, but it basically became mine in an unofficial sort of way after about a year or two."

"So," Donna drawls, "you really spent a lot of time here, huh?"

"It sure beat spending the night with my obnoxious roommate at school," he says. "And it was nice having a home cooked meal to come back to. I was always...they treated me like a real son, you know. They never made me feel like I didn't belong, like I was less their family than Josh was. It helped a lot when I was away from my own parents so long."

Donna smiles softly, "You're incredibly lucky, then."

"Don't worry," Sam tells her, walking back out into the hallway and giving her no choice but to follow. "You'll be part of the family soon enough. Ruth sort of has a way of adopting anyone important to her boys. Leo and his family, they've always been part of the Lymans too."

"You knew Leo?" Donna asks. "Before the campaign, I mean."

"I'd met him once or twice. We were familiar, but I didn't know him that well, no. See, Noah and Leo are—"

He breaks off, noticing his use of the present tense, and the look Donna gives him tells him the fact hadn't escaped her notice either, but he continues on without correcting himself, "...like me and Josh. But Leo always lived too far away for them to be together as often as they liked. There was a summer house somewhere down south they'd go to every year for a week or so in July. I was always invited, but I spent my summers in California so, it never worked out."

Donna nods slowly, taking all of this in. Sam is too busy reminiscing to pay much attention to her, though, his eyes drawn to the various photographs and paintings on the wall as they tread down the hall. He's just about to point one out to her, when he hears her call out.

"You didn't show me this room. What's in here?"

Sam springs forward, stopping her with a hand on her wrist before she reaches for the knob.

"You can't go in there!"

. . . . .

 _"You can't go in there!"_

 _"Why not?" Sam asks, suddenly very confused. "You hiding drugs in there or something?"_

 _Josh doesn't even crack a smile._

 _"No. You just...can't go in there, alright?"_

 _Sam is taken aback at his friend's uncharacteristically stern tone, "Um...okay, but—"_

 _"Just don't," Josh huffs with an air of finality. "Look, I gotta go to the bathroom. Why don't you go get us some drinks from my mom, and I'll meet you back in the kitchen?"_

 _He turns without waiting for Sam's response and storms into the bathroom across the hall. Sam watches, slightly wide-eyed and still incredibly perplexed, but begins to move back towards the stairs._

What on Earth just happened?

 _When he enters the kitchen, Josh's mother is standing over the sink, humming and washing the dishes. She turns at the sound of his footsteps and gives him a smile._

 _"Josh told me to get us some drinks?" Sam offers in the form of a question._

 _"There are sodas in the fridge," she tells him, and he follows with a polite nod. He grabs two bottles of coke from the shelf and then sits down at the table, awkwardly awaiting his friend's return._

 _Sam pops open the lid of one of the bottles._

 _"Did he give you the full tour?" Mrs. Lyman asks him._

 _"Almost," Sam replies, taking a sip of his soda. "There was one room upstairs he got really weird about. Wouldn't even tell me what it was."_

 _"Ah," says Mrs. Lyman, a knowing look appearing on her face. "That would be Joanie's room."_

 _"Joanie?" Sam asks._

 _"My daughter," she supplies, meeting his eyes for the briefest of moments before returning to her dishes._

 _"Oh," Sam ponders this for a moment. "Josh never told me he had a sister. Is she away at college or something?"_

 _She stills her hands, but doesn't look away from the plate she's currently scrubbing. Sam waits patiently for a response, taking another sip of his drink before he finally hears her reply._

 _"She passed away," Mrs. Lyman whispers, "when Josh was eight."_

. . . . .

"Oh," Donna immediately draws her hand away, looking immensely guilty. 'I'm sorry. I didn't..."

"It's alright," Sam smiles, showing her that she hasn't truly done anything wrong. "I'm sorry I scared you. I shouldn't have yelled. It's just..."

"Just?" she prompts him when he pauses for a moment.

"It really isn't my place to say," Sam sighs, "but it probably is time you knew."

"Knew what?"

Sam takes a deep breath, but before he can get the words out, he's interrupted by a new voice.

"Sam?"

He turns at the sound of his voice to see Josh, dressed in flannel pajama pants and an undershirt, hair wet and even wilder than normal, looking at him with genuine shock and confusion.

"Uh...hi," Sam says.

"You're here," Josh says. Not a question. Just a fact.

"I'm here."

"And you brought Donna?" Josh looks past Sam at his assistant.

"I actually came of my own free will," Donna snarks, drawing Josh's attention fully from Sam and directing it at herself as he begins to approach them.

"How did..." Josh starts, but doesn't seem able to finish.

"We'll tell you the whole story over coffee."

Josh glances between them both, then nods. Sam thinks for a moment that he's going to brush past them and head for the stairs, but he stops just in front of them, and pulls Sam into a hug.

"Thank you," he whispers in a rare moment of vulnerability that almost brings tears to Sam's eyes on the spot.

"Of course," Sam gives him a rough pat on the back before Josh releases him and turns to Donna.

The two smile at each other for a long moment, and though Josh makes no move to either hug or thank her, Sam realizes that a great deal passes wordlessly between them, and wonders, not for the first time, what to think of this connection of theirs.

. . . . .

"You never told me you had a dog, Josh!" Donna smiles, holding a framed photo of a scraggly looking beagle that's placed on the mantle.

"Oh, you mean BJ," Sam says in response. "Josh doesn't talk about him because he doesn't want it to get out how puppy crazy he is."

"That's not true," Josh huffs, flopping down on the couch beside his mother just as Sam hops up to join Donna and the arrangement of photos she's been studying.

"Oh, come on!" Sam scoffs. "I can still hear you now, 'Please, Sam, can we keep him? Look at his sweet little face!'"

. . . . .

 _"Please, Sam, can we keep him? Look at his sweet little face!"_

 _"Absolutely not," says Sam._

 _"But why?" Josh whines, reminiscent of a small child._

 _"Why?" Sam laughs incredulously. "Josh, first of all, we're hardly ever home. Second of all, you can barely take care of yourself, much less a dog."_

 _"Okay, that's not true."_

 _"Josh," Sam stares at him pointedly. "I left town for three days and came home to an apartment that stunk of spoiled food and a pile of dirty clothes exploding out of your bedroom door."_

 _"That," Josh declares, "has less to do with me being unable to take care of myself and more to do with me being unwilling to do chores. I'm not some fifties housewife, Sam."_

 _"Oh, and I am?"_

 _Josh opens his mouth, probably to make some smart remark, then looks down at the dog again, thinks better of it, and instead says, "That's not what I meant."_

 _"I'm just so much better at cleaning then you are?" Sam supplies._

 _Josh shrugs, "Well—"_

 _"Don't," says Sam, "even finish that, or I'm putting the dog in the taxi right now and taking it to the nearest shelter."_

 _"Sam!" Josh whines again. "You can't do that. You have no idea how poorly they treat animals at those places."_

 _"I'm not saying I want the dog to suffer, Josh. I'm just saying that taking it in probably isn't the best course of action. When are we going to have time to walk the thing?"_

 _"At night," Josh suggests. "I'll do it after dinner. It's not like I ever go to bed before midnight anyways, and you always say I should spend my night hours doing more productive things than yelling at the TV."_

 _"Okay," Sam cedes, "but what do we do with it when neither of us are in town?"_

 _"There are such things as kennels, Samuel."_

 _"And bathing it and cleaning up after it?"_

 _"I'm willing to put in the effort so as to appease you, but that doesn't mean I'm going to be anymore help with the other housework."_

 _Sam rolls his eyes, "Fine, it's not like I'd expect anything more from you. But are we even allowed to have a dog in our building?"_

 _"Sure," Josh nods, scratching the dog between his ears with renewed excitement, and Sam could tell he knew he was getting to him. "The lady right above us has like three cats."_

 _The next few moments are spent in silence as Sam regards both Josh and the dog carefully, trying his best to ignore the uncharacteristically pleading look in his best friend's eyes._

 _"If I agree to this," Sam finally says, "we're going to have to take it to the vet and make sure it's not gonna give us rabies or something."_

 _"Of course!" Josh practically squeals._

 _"And all the money for food and healthcare is coming out of your pocket."_

 _"Yes."_

 _"I'm not getting guilted into paying five-hundred dollars to cover the medical expenses of a dog."_

 _"I understand," Josh is practically bouncing up and down._

 _Sam chances one more glance at the beagle, knowing now that his resolve has already broken, then says, "Okay."_

 _"Okay?" Josh squeaks._

 _"Okay."_

 _"Yes!" he spins around, one hand still with a tight grip on the dog and another raised in the air in victory. "I am the master negotiator. Congress better watch out. I'm comin' for 'em. Ain't that right, BJ?"_

 _Sam raises an eyebrow, "BJ?"_

 _"Yeah, like LBJ, you know," Josh replies as though this should be entirely obvious._

 _"Why not just call him LBJ, then?"_

 _"Don't be ridiculous, Sam. Dogs don't need three initials."_

 _Sam rolls his eyes again, "Pardon my mistake."_

 _"Off to the vet!" Josh proclaims, marching back towards the taxi that they had abandoned the second he spotted the lonely dog on the street corner._

 _"What have I just gotten myself into?" Sam mutters to himself as he follows behind._

. . . . .

"I did _not_ sound like that," Josh counters somewhat bitterly.

"You asked Sam's permission to have a dog?" Donna tilts her head to the side in slight confusion, looking away from the photo and at Josh.

"He didn't ask," Sam corrects. "He _begged_."

"I did not—"

"And yes, he needed my permission because we were roommates at the time," Sam supplies, completely ignoring Josh's outburst.

"I didn't know you guys lived together," says Donna.

"Only for a couple years right after college," Sam informs her. "We were working on the Hill together then."

"Oh."

"Yes, it was really quite soothing for me, knowing Joshua wasn't being left entirely up to his own devices out there," Ruth finally joins in.

"Mom," Josh groans.

"Well can you blame me?" Ruth asks. "It's a good thing you had Samuel there to look after you."

"It's not like I was a child, Mom."

"No, no. I know. And you looked after him too. It was a very important and defining time in both of your lives. I'm glad you had each other, that's all."

Josh, Sam observes, looks a bit uncomfortable at this point, from what he knows to be his typical inability to handle his mother when she becomes sentimental, so he takes it upon himself to switch the topic of conversation.

"He did grow on me, you know," he tells them all. "BJ, I mean. We had a lot of good times with that dog."

Josh smiles fondly, but the smile quickly turns to a smirk, "Like the time he peed on all twenty pages of your notes and we had to stay up all night re-writing them?"

"That's not exactly the kind of fun I was referring to," Sam says, but finds himself smiling anyways. "But yes, that was one of the more memorable moments."

They stay up for a long while that night, reminiscing with Ruth over the old days, making Donna laugh so hard she cries at least twice, and Sam sees a bit of the Josh that had been missing since the night before creeping back in, at least a little. They've got a long ways to go, though, before they get him back completely.

 **In other news, I have absolutely nothing prepared for how the next chapter is going to go. This thing is kind of writing itself. Personally, I'm getting sick of this exposition-type stuff, but there's gotta be background for the juicy bits to really hit their mark, so I apologize for that. I'm planning on doing some research into Jewish memorial services soon, so expect to see an actual funeral or something soon. Thanks to anyone that read this for bearing with me.**


	4. Semper Fidelis

**This took so LONG ahaha. Anyways, I'm pretty fond of this chapter, so treat it nicely please. Special shoutout to Aaron and also to that one reviewer who suggested Josh and Sam went to a boarding school because I sort of took that idea and ran with it.**

"So, where to?"

"You're asking me?" Donna smiles as she buckles her seatbelt. "I have no idea what there is to do around here."

Sam shakes his head in mock exasperation as he begins to back the rental car out of the driveway, "So much to show you, and so little time."

"You can take me wherever," Donna replies, throwing her head back against the headrest with a sigh. "Connecticut's not even that big. We could probably hit all the hot spots and be back before dinner."

Sam smiles lightheartedly at her teasing, " _Au contraire, Mademoiselle!_ How little you know about the great state of Connecticut. It's packed to the brim with art, history, fine dining, and wealthy white men in fancy homes!"

Donna laughs, and Sam continues, "There aren't hours enough in the day to see it all. I suppose I'll just have to give you the highlights."

They lapse into a newfound comfortable silent after this, having only a brief conversation over radio stations and music tastes a few moments later, which leads to a revelation in their shared interest of Broadway soundtracks.

Sam takes this time to construct in his head the best path through the city to get Donna to all his favorite Connecticut hotspots before 6:00, at which point Ruth and Josh are expected to return from the funeral home with fixed arrangements for the memorial service the following day. They're allowed this day of reprieve and planning because of the fact that it's Saturday, and Jews can't be buried on the Sabbath. Otherwise, they'd have had the ceremony early this morning, which was already outside the customary twenty-four hour period of time between a person's passing and their burial, but which Ruth had bypassed in order to allow time for traveling relatives to be able to attend on such short notice. She and Josh were taking care of all the legal and familial repercussions that came with an unexpected death and had insisted Sam and Donna take the day to go sightseeing and enjoy their brief vacation from the campaign.

Sam had been reluctant at first, having woken with a knot in his stomach and the realization that the man who'd been like a second father to him for so many years was truly gone. In all the chaos of the day before and the focus on Ruth and Josh's needs, he hadn't really given much thought to his own feelings, but the second he opened his eyes to see the long-ago familiar surroundings of his room in the Lyman house, the reason for his visit became all too clear and all too real. He'd been inclined to sit around the house and reminisce gloomily while mourning for Noah in a way he would never allow himself to do in front of his best friend, but there was also the issue of Donna. For a brief moment, Sam wondered if encouraging her to come along had been a mistake, but a few seconds later she was arguing with Josh over his outfit, and Sam reminded himself that if nothing else, her presence was a welcome distraction for them all. And so he ended up caving and agreeing to give Donna a tour of the city he had called home for four very crucial years of his life.

. . . . .

"You really went to school here?" Donna asks, eyes wide as she takes in her surroundings.

"Yup," Sam replies proudly. "All four years of high school."

"It's…it's a castle."

Sam chuckles, shutting the car door behind him and moving around to her side, "Not quite, though perhaps at times it might've seemed as though the teachers here fancied themselves British monarchs."

"Your parents have got to be loaded," she continues as they walk towards the building. "I mean, I knew you guys both came from good money, but there's no way tuition here costs anything less than a fortune."

Sam shoves his hands into his pockets and shrugs, "They probably have less money than you think they do. My being an only child sort of gave them more freedom to spoil me, and well, only the best of the best was acceptable. That's why I got shipped across the country for almost half a decade."

"I didn't know you were an only child," she comments lightly. "Not that I really assumed you had siblings, because you've never talked about any. Honestly, I really never gave it much thought. In fact, I don't really know that much about you at all. You and I don't chat very often, do we?"

"Not exactly. Josh likes to monopolize your time."

"That which he does," she agrees in a tone that suggests exasperation, but which Sam knows to come from fondness as well. "I like talking to you though. You're a welcome reprieve from Josh's chaos. We should find more time to catch up when we get back."

Sam smiles at her, "I'd like that very much, Donna Moss. You're turning out to be an interesting acquaintance, and one I'd appreciate having on my side. You know, in case Josh ever becomes too much to handle, we've got to team up, you and me. We're probably two of the only people who know how best to reign him in."

"True. Though, I don't know. C.J. seems like she's starting to get the hang of it."

"C.J. sort of has her own way of handling everyone."

"She does, indeed," Donna smiles. "So, tell me more about your family. I've heard about California, but I want to know about the Seaborns."

"That," Sam says, "is probably not as interesting of a conversation topic as you would expect."

"No?"

"I love my parents and everything, but they're pretty bland people. You wonder why I don't talk about them so much, but it's really because there's not all the much to talk about."

"I doubt that," she argues.

"I think it'd be much more exciting to hear about the Moss clan," Sam urges her. "You grow up in a long chain of dairy farmers?"

"Nope. Just Republicans."

Sam pulls a face at that, "Okay, I retract my previous statement. I don't need to know about your family. I'll just keep a nice professional distance."

Donna smiles but is cut off from responding to this by Sam's cell ringing. He pulls it out and gives her an apologetic look.

"I should take this," he tells her. "It could be Leo."

She waves him off noncommittally, and he steps to the side to answer.

"This is Sam."

. . . . .

 _"This is Sam."_

 _"Are you going to answer the phone like that every time?"_

 _Sam rolls his eyes, even though he knows Josh can't see him, "It's a standard greeting from a cell phone, Josh."_

 _"Yeah, well, I don't like feeling like I'm on a business call every time my best friend answers the phone."_

 _"Whatever. You need something?"_

 _"Yeah, actually," Josh hedges a bit. "You know my mom's birthday is next weekend?"_

 _"I've been in New York for three years, not on another planet. I know when your mother's birthday is."_

 _"_ Anyways _," Josh mutters. "It's her sixtieth, you know, so my dad's trying to plan a whole thing, and I'm going up there for a couple of days."_

 _"That's good," says Sam—because it_ is _good. Josh has started to practically live and breathe his job, and Sam has been on the other end of plenty of phone conversations with Ruth complaining that he doesn't visit or call as often as he should, so the fact that he's going to Connecticut for her birthday to spend time with her is good. Why he's choosing to share this with Sam, though, is sort of beyond his comprehension. Not that Josh has ever really needed an excuse to act oddly, but they haven't talked in probably several weeks. It's strange that he'd pick now to strike up a conversation about his mother's birthday without a true purpose. "Do you need help with her gift?"_

 _"Sort of…"_

 _"Well, tough," Sam admonishes, unable to keep from shaking his head. "I already know what I'm getting her, and I haven't bought it yet, so I'm not telling you just so you can steal my idea."_

 _"I wouldn't steal your idea!" Josh argues indignantly. "I don't do that."_

 _"Josh."_

 _"Okay, I've been known to possibly borrow your ideas in the past, but only when it was really down to the wire, and I was struggling."_

 _"Yeah, okay. Anyways, I took forever trying to come up with this gift and a way to get it to her, so you're on your own this year, buddy."_

 _"I'll have you know, Raskolnikov, that I've actually come up with a good gift all on my own, despite your ill-faith in me. I called to ask you for help going about getting it to her."_

 _"First of all, Raskolnikov, really?"_

 _"I was going to go with Ebenezer Scrooge, but I thought the second-layer reference to your alienation from society was a nice touch."_

 _"Secondly," Sam continues, ignoring this entirely, "you're going to Connecticut. You can't get it to her on your own?"_

 _"Not exactly…"_

 _Sam pauses, detecting a hint of something in his friend's tone that doesn't bode well with him._

 _"Josh?"_

 _"See, and the thing is, I want you to realize that I'm asking this not as a favor for myself, but for my mother who you love very much and who housed and fed you for four years of your life."_

 _"Josh."_

 _"And that I'm willing to pull every ounce of Jewish guilt I've got who knows where inside me to pressure you into this, but it would really just be better if you agreed on your own."_

 _"Josh."_

 _"And before you get angry about this being last minute, I just want to remind you about that infinitely excruciating gala I went to with you a couple of years ago where everyone thought we were a couple because you chickened out on asking Holly Maybary at the last minute."_

 _"Josh!"_

 _"I kind of told my dad when he called a few days ago to ask what I'd gotten her that I was bringing you to her party as a big surprise."_

 _Sam, for his part, is able to remain entirely calm, "Josh. I have the anniversary thing with Lisa next Friday."_

 _"I know," Josh sighs._

 _"The anniversary thing I've been planning for two months, which you've yelled at me multiple times about when I've called asking for advice."_

 _"Yes. I'm aware of that."_

 _"It's our one year anniversary, Josh. I'm going to ask her to move in."_

 _"We've discussed this previously."_

 _"I'm saying this because you seem, somehow, to have forgotten all that, though I don't know how you could've, but then again it is you we're talking about. You must have forgotten this when you told your father I'd be accompanying you to Connecticut for your mother's birthday because otherwise I don't know why you would make such a promise, knowing very well it would never come to pass."_

 _"Look, I panicked, okay?" Josh shouts, and without seeing him, Sam knows he's currently pacing and flailing his free arm around passionately. "My dad calls me up and goes all into great detail about this wonderful gift he's got for her and all these family members he has flying into town, from Canada no less, and then he's like, 'So, Joshua, what'd Sam get for you to give your mother this year?' And I just couldn't do it again, Sam. I couldn't. I know I'm awful at picking out gifts, and I know I forget things a lot, and I know my mom feels like she's an afterthought, but I couldn't have my dad thinking it too. So I just said the first thing that popped into my head, and now I'm begging you to come because if you don't, I've got absolutely nothing, and not only is my dad going to be disappointed that the Prodigal Son didn't make it home, but I get the lecture about how I need to appreciate and respect my mother more. I can't go through that. Not this year."_

 _By the end of Josh's rant, Sam finds himself softening. It has sort of been an unacknowledged sore point between he, Josh, and Noah for a long time that Josh feels as though Noah favors Sam over him. It started when Josh first told his father that he was going to go into politics instead of becoming a lawyer like they'd always planned. Noah was visibly disappointed, but he'd assured Josh that he was proud of him no matter what, and that had been the end of that. Except it hadn't. Suddenly Noah was focusing all of his advice and counseling and opportunities on Sam, who still had every intention of becoming a lawyer, and who ended up getting paraded around Noah's office and shown off to potential employers. Sam had noticed the subtle differences in the way Josh discussed the future with his father, the way he'd avoid the subject of politics around Noah even though it was all he wanted to talk about otherwise. He'd make offhanded comments about Sam being the favorite child, brief little quips meant to come off as jokes, but which Sam saw through. He knew Josh better than just about any person in the world, and he knew when he was hurting. It seemed not to reach Noah or Ruth, however, which surprised Sam, but nonetheless, it was the way things were._

 _Sam had hoped when he moved to New York and wasn't around throwing his career in Josh's face all the time, it would help the healing process, but apparently, he'd been wrong. From Josh's comment, Noah is as oblivious as ever, and Josh is still feeling neglected. There is, however, nothing he can do to fix the situation. Knowing Josh as he does, Sam is overly aware that were he ever to mention any of this to Josh, it would not go over well. Josh, being both the emotionally detached person that he is, and the single most selflessly loyal person Sam has ever met, would deny the truth of it, and even if Sam were to get him to admit it eventually, it wouldn't make these feelings go away. Rather, Josh would then dedicate himself to making sure Sam could no longer tell when he was bothered and when he was not. And though it hurts Sam to see his closest friend so helplessly upset over something that really has no merit, he won't risk making a big deal out of it. He'll let it go, and Josh will remain none-the-wiser. At least that way Sam will still be able to tell when Josh is hurting and when he isn't, and maybe he'll be able to avoid the situations when unnecessary pain will be caused. Like right now._

 _"Okay," he tells Josh with a sigh._

 _"Okay?" Josh asks, incredulous. "That's it? No lecture? Just okay? I thought I'd have to beg a little more, at least."_

 _"Are you volunteering to beg? Because I could change my mind—"_

 _"No! No, that's alright. I mean…you know…thanks."_

 _"Yeah, well, you just better be glad my girlfriend is very forgiving and thinks you're charming, which I don't think I'll ever begin to understand."_

 _"I am charming, Sam. How else do you think I make it in politics?"_

 _"Not for your humility, that much I know."_

 _"Tell Lisa sorry for me," Josh replies sincerely. "I mean, really sorry. Buy her something nice. On me. I'll pay you back over the weekend."_

 _"Tell her yourself," Sam grunts. "You're picking me up."_

 _Josh groans, "Sam."_

 _"This is my one condition. You just asked me to cancel my anniversary dinner with my girlfriend to accompany you to Connecticut and celebrate your mother's birthday with a bunch of old Jewish people I do not know. The least you could do is get me out of paying for a plane ticket."_

 _"Fine," Josh huffs. "But I'm playing_ Toulouse Street _the whole way."_

 _"I'd expect nothing less."_

 _There's a long pause, and Sam is just about to hang up when Josh's voice comes through again._

 _"When are you going to get tired of me dragging you places to bail me out of trouble?"_

 _"I don't know," Sam answers honestly. "No time soon, I suspect. It's been a while now, and I still keep following you."_

 _"Some would call that the definition of insanity."_

 _"Maybe," Sam shrugs, "but only if I did so expecting the same result. I know you well enough not to expect the same result. It's never the same, and it's most certainly always an adventure."_

 _"Bye, Sam," Josh says, and Sam can hear the smile this time. A real one._

 _"Bye, Josh."_

. . . . .

"Yeah, it's me."

The voice that responds is so soft-spoken and upset that Sam hardly recognizes it.

"Lisa? Is everything okay?" he asks, suddenly worried.

"I'm alright, Sam."

"Good," Sam lets out a deep breath. "You sounded...I don't know. It doesn't matter. What's up?"

"Sam…I…" Lisa seems lost.

"Yes?" he prompts her.

"I've been thinking. We should…we need to talk."

. . . . .

By the time he ends the call, Sam feels numb. He hardly notices the weird look Donna gives him when he returns to her, cell phone still in hand, arms hanging limply at his sides.

"You okay there?"

He hears Donna ask the question, but he doesn't quite register the words.

"Sam?"

He still says nothing. He's staring at some indeterminate point off in the distance, focusing both intently and not at all at the same time. He doesn't remember having ever felt this lost before in his life.

"Sam?" Donna repeats, this time moving to break his staring contest with said indeterminate point and placing her hands on his arms. "What is it? You're scaring me. Was that Leo?"

He finds enough strength to shake his head.

"Josh? Is something wrong with Josh? Is he…do we need to—"

"It was Lisa," he finally says, thinking that quite possibly the only reason he managed to cobble together enough of his senses to get that much out is because she was starting to panic, and that had to be avoided at all costs.

"Oh…kay…"

"She…" he starts but isn't able to finish the actual sentence. Then it suddenly all starts to spill out of him: "She said…I mean, I knew she was unhappy. I knew we were going through a rough patch, but I kept telling her things would be better after the election. I guess I never really fully understood how truly unhappy she was. I just thought…I was trying so hard to make it work, Donna. I was."

Understanding finally registers on Donna's face, and he sees her sigh, "Oh, Sam."

"I didn't think…I wasn't expecting her to…" he struggles on. "I failed her, Donna. I tried my hardest, and it wasn't good enough."

"Sam…" she whispers softly, pulling him into the hug he so desperately needs. "I can't even imagine what you're feeling right now, but you can't blame yourself. You can't be mad at yourself for doing what makes you happy. Just promise me you won't do that."

Sam isn't sure even he knows exactly what he's feeling in that moment, but he wraps his arms tightly around her, breathing deeply into her shoulder, and nods.

 **Wow, this sort of developed a life of its own as I was writing it that I definitely was NOT expecting. Oh well. Let me just say, to anyone who was offended by the portrayal of Noah in this, I'm not trying to make him into a bad dad! It al works itself out, I promise :)**


End file.
